MGS: Paradise Lost
by toffa-h
Summary: Snake is sent to a small, beautifully lush island near the equator to disable the nuclear warheads expected to be in possession by a very potent terrorist organization. Yet mysterious events extend his visit - Nothing is what it seems.


Pt. 1  
  
Snake was silently running down the wide isle. The gigantic cargo boxes stood on each side of him; deserted, as the cranes above him loomed and creaked. He had completed his primary objective and thus his single remaining order from the Colonel was to get out of there – at all costs. He had completely devastated the terrorists' plans, thereby ensuring their retreat into obscurity. However, Snake knew the man that led the terrorist unit. This man wanted him dead. Also at all costs.  
  
Tap, tap, tap went the soles of Snake's specially developed sneaking boots. Contrary to the standard military equipped boots these had soft soles: hardened enough to protect Snake's feet but soft enough to ensure a quiet kill. But as Snake ran towards the cave's cargo docks, cleverly disguised from outside view, all he could think about was the cooling water he was about to plunge into. Mission complete. Safe.  
  
But the silence was threatening. Snake had had enough experience to know when something was wrong, and this was such a time. He held his breath so that he would hear even better than his already genetically heightened hearing would let him. Tap, tap, tap. A hand appeared slowly from behind a corner. It was holding a revolver, aiming at Snake who was running on the floor below. From the railing the hand had clear visibility until the blinding light of the sun reflected on the water outside and distorted anything and everything. The trigger was squeezed tighter and tighter until the deadly hammer gathered strength. Snake heard. He heard the bullet leave the ammo round and enter the gun. He heard the rasp of the metal. He jumped.  
  
As Snake jumped head first, he turned in mid-air and shot while upside down. The incoming bullet hit the floor beneath him as he fired off his first couple of shots. The two SOCOM's had been invaluable during this mission. Again they would kill. And by the screams of pain Snake assumed that at least one of the bullets had found its target. How dizzying the silence was now. The irony: the frightening silence versus the eternal one. Snake kept running, firing back at the spot where he had last glimpsed the attacker. His bullets were accurate enough to hold the shooter back, that is, if he still lingered. So he had followed him. Damn! Snake fired off a few more shots as he came closer to the jump. The floor would soon end in a vertical fall where it would meet the cool water. As the noise told him that his bullets were all gone he let his two SOCOM's fall to the ground as he refocused on running. Sprinting. The final steps were approaching as the hole in the cave grew and grew, and the reflections became almost blinding. He took a valiant jump off of the edge of the floor and rested momentarily in the air until he opened his eyes again and prepared for the water to strike his hands and immediately thereafter his head.  
  
Snake's otherwise impenetrable suit gently allowed the water to enter and cover the entire body of its wearer. The water was delightfully cooling and Snake smiled in it as he had learned to enjoy the tiny pleasures in life. He opened a small parcel on his belt and put the findings firmly in his mouth. He relied on the device to keep him alive; it was the only thing stopping him from drowning. There was no time to lose, and Snake began swimming towards the exit, constantly aware to keep a safe distance form the surface. To his horror, the deep rumbling he suddenly heard came from the metal doors; one on each side of the cave entrance. These thick doors prevented intruders from entering the secret installation from the outside waters. Now they would prevent him from leaving.  
  
Pt.2  
  
Snake took large strokes, hoping to avoid the crushing doors closing tighter and tighter. His heart beat faster as his entire being worked to propel his body forward. As the two doors formed nothing more than a tiny spring of exit, Snake took a final stroke, pulled his legs towards his body, and gulped as the doors shut with impeccable accuracy centimetres away from his toes. The bubbles from his Oxygenerator multiplied as he caught his breath. After a few seconds of awe, Snake turned his head up towards the surface and saw the light spectacle provided by the sun. He must have been over ten meters down, well enough to avoid any thermal goggles or other heat seeking equipment. Snake felt completely motionless in the endless waters spanning out on all three sides. Although the water was clear, he couldn't estimate his visibility since there were no points of reference: the water in front of him stretched out for miles and miles, without any obstacles. Strangely enough, the body of water was completely devoid of any life. He swam out further, looked back at the island, and saw the iron gates meet the hard, rock surface of the island. These walls of Mother Nature quickly turned a corner and the rest of the island beyond the gates blurred out and disappeared.  
  
Snake swam away from the island until he felt safe; constantly keeping a distance from the surface. Oh how he longed to join the rays of the sun at the top. Breathing slowly, he prepared to contact the Colonel. Just as he was about to call him, his codec went off.  
  
"Snake! Status report. What's going on?"  
  
Unable to speak, Snake quickly pressed his two wrists together. If regular conversation wasn't possible, Snake still had the ability to Morse code to his chief. This was such a situation. The two copper circles on his suit's sleeves made contact as the clicking destroyed the silence in the water. Back to work, never a moments peace. Such was his life. But he needed the action. Snake clicked frantically as the Colonel pieced together his message.  
  
COMPLETED. ESCAPED. EXTRACTION.  
  
Since the mission was complete, all that needed to be done was to ensure his return to HQ.  
  
"Good job Snake! Glad to know you're alright. We can have a coast-guard patrol boat pick you up in fifteen minutes. However, we dare not get too close to the island... Do you think you can reach us closer to the mainland? You'd have to go around the island and meet us half way between the mainland and the island. Although you annihilated their plans, they have fire power in spades. I'm not a gambling man, but I'd bet they'd want to give their enemies a final good-bye party. No need putting more people in danger, right Snake? Find a way to travel north. It's about ten minutes by boat. Once in my custody our men will ensure your safety. Contact me when you're approaching the extraction point. Good luck Snake."  
  
Bastard; thought Snake. He had just risked his life on another mission in the myriad of endless objectives. Mission after mission. He wanted to let it go, yet at the same time he needed it so much. He loved it; he hated it. Why couldn't the Colonel send reinforcements to the island? Danger was not the only reason. There were enough men on stand-by to provide backup in case it was necessary. Why the secrecy? The terrorists' plans were thwarted: time for a cleaning patrol to make the finishing moves to their organization... Perhaps there's some paperwork to be taken care of beforehand. He attempted not to care. Just do what you're told, Snake, you'll be on another paid vacation in no time. And keep your mind off of Him. He won't find you.  
  
Snake needed a breath of air; real air. He swam effortlessly to the top and broke the membrane protecting the tranquillity of the ocean from the ever- impending violence of dry, dry land.  
  
Pt. 3  
  
On the outside, the complex looked like nothing more than an island. The terrorist organization had built the base inside the various mountainous locations on the island and so, if one didn't know about the inner workings of the group, you wouldn't know what to look for. They had run their business from this place, it was their headquarters. The terrorists – although cunning and effective – were strictly monetarist in nature. They wanted cash, and lots of it. But for some reason Snake felt that there might be more to it than that. 'He' shouldn't be here. It doesn't make sense. He should be dead, gone, and non-existent. Snake began to question his sanity. He couldn't come up with any reasons as to why He would be running this relatively docile terrorist cell. He must be up to something more sincere.  
  
These thoughts spun inside Snake's head as he swam towards the shore. The terrorists harboured all their boats on the other side of the island. Hence, he would have to traverse quietly through the jungle foliage. At this time the terrorists would mostly likely be abandoning their HQ to gather strength for a come-back in the not-so-distant future. All units would be on the move towards the waterfront. Snake had the advantage since his enemy thought he was long gone. The only problem would be Him. He was smarter than the goons he led, and would be waiting for Snake. 'He' decided what was to happen, just like the police in a child's game of cops and robbers: the robber is in the mercy of the police man. The cop is the one who sets it all in motion. If the cop doesn't chase the robber, both can rest. The police man sets the pace. 'He' was in this case, ironically, the police man.  
  
Snake climbed out of the water and dashed up the sandy beach until he came to a dune, from which he hid behind. He took out his reserve weapon: slightly smaller and less powerful than his SOCOM, yet precise and lethal enough. Snake heard running feet. He took out the small silencer for his pistol from a pocket in his suit and proceeded to screw it on: quickly! His suit was drying his body. The water had been expelled from the suit, which now allowed Snake to perspire. Leaning up against the dune, Snake heard the running approach on his right side. As the noise came closer to his dune he closed his eyes and focused. The noise was past him, running along, on his left side now. He quickly jumped out from the corner and aimed in the direction of the sound: He saw a man running with a small box of files. Snake fired two quiet shots at the man, both hitting his back. The man gave a yelp as he fell to the ground. Snake lowered his weapon and leaned back against the dune once more. He made sure to peek from the sides to make sure nobody was around. He ran towards the dead man while looking out for any signs of alarm. Snake had a right to kill. The mission was officially over and any means to get out alive were granted. Besides, it's not like the terrorists could report a DB or AWOL. Snake had no law to fear; only the malignant hands of his adversaries could scorn him.  
  
The man Snake had just shot was sent out specifically to retrieve the files he had been carrying. He was alone, unarmed, and running as if his life depended on it. To make matters more confusing, the man was running a long way away from the main path connecting the small docking area to the entrance to the underground base. Whatever he was carrying was strictly for his master's eyes. Snake lifted the dead body which lay partially on the small box and rolled him away. The box had several files in it. He picked one up and looked through it. Nothing odd about it at all: logistics for weapons and economic transfers was all that he could make out. However, it seemed as if the files revolved around a very specific issue. What is was Snake could not make out. As soon as Snake heard the noise of footsteps on the hard soil he threw the box with the files violently behind some bushes. He grabbed the dead man by his limp shoulders and rolled off together to the dunes to the side. The pace of the steps quickened. Snake peaked out from the dune and saw a man running with a similar box, containing files, Snake presumed. Snake followed the man with his eyes until he had run past him, at where Snake aimed at the guy's legs and fired off a shot. The shot made only the slightest noise when it left the gun chamber, but caused great tumult as it hit its target. The man flew forward in pain, papers flying upwards in a tornado of momentaneous ecstasy. Snake dashed forward to the man and shot at the spot where his gun lay. The man's hands dared not go near the hazardous zone which now prevented any form of contact. As Snake arrived at the man's side he kicked the pistol on the ground to the side and aimed at his head.  
  
"Who do you work for?" Snake asked while applying pressure to the man's leg wound with his foot. Groaning was all that came out of him. "Who sent you to collect these files? What are they about?" More pressure. The man was in obvious pain, yet he did not budge. Snake threatened to shoot him unless he got an answer out of him. This is what he was forced to do. The man would not have spoken, that was clear from the moment Snake looked into his fearless eyes. Snake relieved the pressure from the man's leg wound, took careful aim and put a bullet in his head. The bullet made a thud as it escaped the confinement of the cranium and hit the ground underneath. Snake holstered his pistol and looked around. He grabbed the second man he had killed since reaching the shore and threw him on the first one. He grabbed as many papers as he could and stuffed them inside the box. Then he took a few out again. His eyes caught a series of words:  
  
"Metal Gear RE-N"  
  
Pt. 4  
  
He wouldn't believe it. Another Metal Gear in the works? This would explain why He, Liquid Snake, would be running this operation. It made sense, yet Snake had been sent to the island to disable their nuclear launching capabilities, not to investigate another Metal Gear project. He had been around the entire island without witnessing anything even hinting towards a new Metal Gear: no room in the entire complex had the possibility of storing a mechanical monster of that size. Was the MG even located on the island? If so, how could one reach it? Snake decided to find out. He had to reach the docks; he might be able gather information from the activity there. He was back on the job.  
  
Snake ran along the dunes on the beach until he arrived at the docks. They were certainly getting ready to leave the island. The boats were being loaded with boxes: files, most likely. Snake needed to make sure that no MG files left the island. When no heads were turned his way, he sprinted into the water and dove in when his legs slowed him down. He placed his Oxygenerator in his mouth and regained his bearings. He swam towards the docks, breathing as slowly as possible to avoid the oxygen bubbles to be seen at the surface. Where was Metal Gear RE-N being kept? Snake reached the wooden docks. He swam under the boats and surfaced quietly against the slimy wood. He took out his oxygen supplier and listened for footsteps. When he didn't hear any he grabbed a hold of the top of the platform and pulled himself halfway up. He looked around. The only guards to be seen were busily chatting at the landing, faced away from Snake. He let go of the platform and took a stroke towards the closest boat's stern. He pulled himself onto the boat and like an eel he slid to the floor. All that could be seen from the guards' view was a slight gulping movement of the boat. Cleverly done by the terrorists; the small and inconspicuous vessels would not cause a scene when leaving the island, contrary to a large transport boat. Snake opened one of the few boxes inside the boat and quickly flipped a few pages. Nothing about MG RE-N. So it was as he expected: the MG project was a secret. None of the regular workers would know about it. He feared that interrogating one of the guards on land would be pointless. Besides, there were only two guards on the pier as the men who had loaded the vessels had left although there were boats for hundreds of people. Where was everybody? Snake realized that he had just found an excuse to do some interrogating. The thought of using the boat to reach the extraction point never crossed his mind. If he didn't unravel this mystery soon he'd have to cancel the extraction and notify the Colonel.  
  
In the same fashion Snake had entered the boat he slid back into the water. He swam around the boats and got as close as he could to the two guards. They were talking to each other, unaware of anything suspicious. Snake only needed one guard. He readied his pistol. He could only see one guard from where he crouched; the other guard stood right behind him. Snake felt that he was running out of time and wouldn't waste any more by adjusting his position. He aimed his pistol at the first guard's calf. As he fired his shot he raised his arms just a bit. The first guard fell backwards as the impact of the bullet colored the ground with human blood. As soon as the first guard fell, the second guard became visible to Snake. The guard was in shock, but before he could scream for help Snake disabled him with a bullet in the forehead. He tumbled to the ground. The first guard was in agony and attempted to make his position clear to anybody in the close vicinity. Snake rushed up to him as he holstered his pistol. With no delicacy, Snake grabbed the injured man and dragged him mercilessly to the nearby shrubbery. He fell to his knees and jabbed the silencer of his gun into the guard's neck.  
  
"If you co-operate I won't have to kill you. Tell me what's going on. Where is everybody?"  
  
The guard stammered his reply. He wasn't in-the-know and only did what he was told. He told Snake that he had received orders to stand guard at the docks, yet nothing whatsoever of an evacuation. The files being loaded were to be transported to another island. As an expression of gratitude for this information, Snake ended the guard's life with a bullet to the temple.  
  
Pt. 5  
  
Snake had to get to that other island if he was to solve this rather unnerving riddle. The transport of the Metal Gear files that he had intercepted were most likely supposed to reach the other island along with the rest of the files that had been loaded onto the boats. As Snake ran onto the wooden pier he inspected the boats hastily. He realized that only two boats actually had boxes in them. The terrorists weren't evacuating at all. Somehow Snake had to get to that island, but he didn't know where it lay. He took out a reinforced wire from his pocket and jumped into the water with an energetic splash.  
  
As he exhaled and sank to the floor of the shoreline he took out his Oxygenerator. Once he touched the seabed he grabbed hold of anything firmly in place in the sand. His hand met a rather rotten branch, yet it was sufficiently jammed into the floor to act as his anchor. Snake swiftly slid his foot under its arching form and placed his tube-like Oxygenerator into his mouth. With both his hands still free, he fastened one end of the wire to his belt, the other end was held in his right hand with his left supporting the miniscule bundle. Wanting to avoid jerking the branch to pieces he exhaled once again and floated down to his knees. Kneeling there he realized that he would need to take quite the leap if he were to be successful in his plan. Snake grabbed the branch slightly with his two hands, his feet taking a foothold in the compliant sand. He assumed that the transportation of the files would occur reasonably soon, otherwise the boats wouldn't have been loaded. Surely enough, two guards arrived and walked along the wooden dock to the two boats under Snake's watch. All he saw were two blurry images disappearing into one of the boats. Taking an extra second to make sure that they had truly chosen the boat in question, Snake bent his knees like a cat, ready to pounce on its prey. Since the blurry images of the two men remained inside the boat, Snake unhooked his foot from its anchor and thrust forward like a torpedo, whipping the water with the full force of his legs and feet.  
  
He reached the stern of the boat and grabbed the rim above the water which extends around the entire vehicle. Luckily, the twin propellers of the boat started seconds after Snake's hold of the boat was ensured. The current caused by the propellers tugged at his legs. Had he been a bit tardy there would have been no way to swim against the current up to the boat. He searched for a loop of some kind to fasten his wire yet found none under the water. He cleared his hair from his face as he lifted himself up above the surface as quietly as possible. He took an infinitesimally quick peek over the back of the boat to see the two guards. They had their backs towards him and so Snake managed to find a piece of metal resting near the engine. He secured it with a 'snap' and let go of everything. He plummeted into the water and sank further down until his suit's standardized buoyancy kicked in.  
  
The boat backed up, turned, and moved forward with a deep rumble as the propellers hastened their rotation. Snake strained to keep up as much as possible so that the men in the boat wouldn't notice a substantial increase in resistance. As the captain of the boat pulled the throttle to the max, Snake gave up his failed attempt at swimming in unison with the boat, closed his eyes and let the water surrounding him rush past.  
  
Pt. 6  
  
The boat slowed down. Unwillingly, Snake detached the cable from his belt; he might need it later on but had no choice but to give it up for the moment. They had reached the island. Snake remained under the surface of the water as he pedalled towards the beach up ahead. He wanted to contact the Colonel and tell him that the mission was far from over, that the terrorists hadn't reacted as predicted and that nothing was what it seemed. Yet Snake's intuition told him that there wasn't enough time, but also that establishing contact with his superior would lead to a dead end. Snake would be ordered back, but this would simply not do. His brother had a substantial importance in the development of Metal Gear RE-N. This made the matter personal. However, this was not what made Snake determined to solve the enticing mystery: Metal Gear and Snake shared a connection far surpassing any conventional bond. The prevention and destruction of any and all Metal Gear was Snake's eternal mission and he would be damned if he wouldn't at least examine the situation.  
  
Snake realized that the guards he had neutralized on the previous island would be found sooner rather than later. When the guards alerted whatever establishment housed on this new island, Snake would have to be face to face with the Metal Gear RE-N. From there he could make his way out under almost any circumstances – he felt that it was always harder to infiltrate than proceed with extraction. Going in always has to be stealthy, unnoticeable – going out may be as obvious as required. Blasting one's way towards the center of the facility and one might end up in an inescapable trap. However, exiting the facility has an aura of hope around it: once out in the open there is nothing that can stop you from reaching your extraction point. Snake would have to be quick if he wanted to reach the Metal Gear in time. He wouldn't call the Colonel and he wouldn't spare any guards' lives.  
  
Contemplating his recent decision to avoid notifying his superior, Snake decided that he could at least spare a minute or two to retrieve his wire. Already unhooked from the wire's clasp, Snake swam in the direction of the now halted boat. He swam low in the clear water until he came to the incline of the shore. There he slowly floated up towards the shadow of the boat. Wary of being silent, he used the rising seabed as a ladder to control his slow but steady ascension. He took a deep breath and removed his Oxygenerator – respiration above water was incredibly noisy as the remaining liquid inside the device bubbled and gushed. Snake lightly placed his hands against the left, submerged side of the boat and pedalled upwards. His head slowly appeared on the surface of the water, reflections dancing on his face. He was under the boat's shadow and could hear the men talking without any risk of being seen.  
  
One of the men grabbed a rather heavy box, indicated by the puffing noise he made as he lifted it off the ground. Snake wanted his wire back. Keeping afloat by thrusting with his legs, he un-holstered his water-proof weapon from his hip and dragged it slowly to his face. A wooden plank had been placed to serve as a bridge between the sandy beach and the boat. The man walked on it as he headed inland. Snake heard the wobbling of the plank and pulled at the hammer of his pistol. He placed his free, left hand on the rim of the boat and grabbed it firmly. As he heard a perplexed "Huh?" from inside the boat, Snake shot a single bullet at the man on the beach. In a serene moment, all that Snake perceived was the bullet casing's slow tap against the hull of the boat as it bounced off it into the water. The blood squirted out from the man's back as he fell forward by his own momentum. Snake regained awareness. The water around him whooshed as he pulled himself upwards by his left arm and shot the startled man in the boat in a smooth, passing motion. The man fell to his knees, blood pouring from the hole in his forehead. By this time Snake had already fallen back into the water, holstered his gun, and launched himself up over the edge of the boat. He stepped over the body and walked to the motor. Snake unhooked the wire from its metal partner and proceeded to pull its entirety out of the water. He turned back and looked at the island. It didn't appear to be very large; definitely smaller than the previous one but equally as beautiful. The flora was alive with the sound of bird chatter. Snake knelt down and rolled the wire into a small bundle which he placed in a pocket on his suit. He checked one of the remaining boxes in the boat. Surely enough, the files were regarding the Metal Gear. Surprisingly, he found nothing remarkable. The machine was still defined as a mobile, nuclear capable battle tank. His previous encounters with a Metal Gear were quite different – the REX had been substantially improved over the one he encountered in Outer Heaven. The RE-N showed no signs of improvements.  
  
Pt. 7  
  
Snake hauled the looted body overboard – first he had searched it for keys or security passes, of which he found none. If another transportation of files were to arrive at the beach he wanted the scene to be as inconspicuous as possible. All bodies had to be disposed of. The body in the boat had been thrown into the water and would soon be resting on the seabed. The pool of blood which accumulated in the center of the craft was a problem. If a group of guards arrived with the second load of files they would surely check the lonely boat for any signs of life, seeing the blood immediately. How could he be rid of the blood? Snake started up the engine and turned it in the opposite direction from whence they came. The motor hummed and the water gurgled. Ironic how he was the one controlling the vessel whilst the two men who had done so a mere two minutes ago were in the water. Snake realized how quickly and callously he had ended their lives. This was the job he did. The method might be messy but the purpose good – at least this was the implication. Snake snapped out of his thoughts when the sun began to burn his skin. It was still high in the sky and blinding. The complementary wind blew Snake's hair out of his face as he prepared the likely final voyage of the boat. He stepped and kneeled onto the tiny ledge of the side of the boat, balancing as he reached for the throttle stick. He flicked it to maximum speed and somersaulted backwards off the boat as it raced towards the distance, captain-less.  
  
Snake landed head first into the water and swam, still submerged, to the nearby shore. As the water dripped off his suit he ran as tip-toed as possible to the second guard which lay in the middle of the startlingly white beach. He lifted him up to his shoulder and stomped off into the water. Waist high in the water, Snake relaxed his arms and shoulders and let the man plunge into the light-blue depth. Soon he would be joining the other man as his body tumbled down the abyss. Snake ran up to the blood on the sand, treading lightly so as to avoid evident footprints. He brushed clean sand on top of the blood. Luckily, due to violent winds, ripples had been formed on the sandy beach and so footprints were almost unnoticeable. Snake looked up at the island. The radiant green of the trees and bushes acted almost as camouflage for the island's more sinister intention. For whatever was going on in this place was surely not benign in purpose. The trees, combined with the undergrowth, softened the dauntingly steep cliff up ahead. The cliff provided any unwelcome visitors with intimidation – its overall jagged form felt deadly. He looked to the sides and saw the beach and flora turn the corner in unison and run out of sight. It was no accident that the boat had landed here. The entrance to the island must be near. Snake took one last look at the waves behind him and then ran towards the storm of green.  
  
The island's flora was near Amazonian in density. The sun was not granted admission under the deep foliage where green shadows ruled all. Snake managed to squeeze his way past the giant leaves and preventative roots and shrubs. He halted as he reached the entrance in the mountain wall. He looked up at the cliff which rose above him and saw the sun emitting a halo of light. It was just behind the highest point of the rock formation and so Snake was still in shadowy protection. He looked at the solid, metal door and pulled the handle tentatively. To his surprise, it opened. Yet there were too many variables that could have left the door unlocked – the planned arrival of the files or simply a routine locking that had been forgotten – that Snake didn't linger on the subject. He had his hand on the door handle and pulled out his long, silenced pistol with the other. Swiftly he pulled the door open as he aimed his gun at the pure darkness inside. For a moment he believed that there was nothing there but emptiness until his eyes adjusted slightly and he could see the floor and walls of the passage. It was completely silent. He took out a small rectangular object from one of his many pockets and fastened it with a click onto the front of his weapon. He flipped a switch and the flashlight turned on. The hallway seemed endless; the light didn't reach anything on the other end and instead continued infinitely. Confused but determined to continue, Snake walked onwards into the cool darkness.  
  
Pt. 8  
  
Snake walked along the dark and cool, endless corridor. The walls appeared black, even when he shone light upon them. They felt cool to the touch. The hallway seemed so infinite and narrow that claustrophobia made its attempt on Snake's psyche. He shrugged it off and continued walking as slowly and quietly as possible. The silence strengthened the noise of his footsteps. The only reason he moved inch by inch was solely to be able to hear any foreign noises between his own. Prepared as he was, Snake froze in the middle of a step as he heard a dull noise from within the walls. With his foot still in midair he flicked off his flashlight and saw nothing but white, erratic specks. His heart inevitably raced, yet his mind was calm. His eyes were useless and so he closed them and diverted his focus to his hearing. As the noise ceased for a mere second he instinctively flattened himself to the favoured right wall. He gulped when he noticed the entrapped position he was in. He listened carefully until he realized that the direction of the noise came from up ahead. He unstuck from the wall and continued onwards, slower than before.  
  
Without his flashlight, Snake had to feel the walls to keep his bearings. In the tense situation he was in, he found the fact that he could feel both walls with his arms outstretched, silently quite humorous. This tunnel was definitely for personnel only. Even though he had been staring into the pool of darkness for over a minute he was still unable to distinguish anything at all. Without his flashlight the hallway was completely devoid of any light. As Snake walked along the wall the noise became louder. It came from the left wall. He slowed down but moved up even further until he came to a door – the sound came from directly within and was louder here. He felt the shape and edges of the door and realized that it was of the same metallic material as the rest of the walls yet obviously thinner. He pressed his head against it and heard two men talking.  
  
"No, I definitely wouldn't. One million simply isn't that much anymore. I consider my mother more valuable than that. Are you telling me that you would?" said the first man. "Sure, why not. The old hag is dying anyway. Not much use for her otherwise. Hah!" A quick pause, then the first man replied: "Hmph, you really are a son of a bitch."  
  
For a while there was silence. Snake didn't know whether to continue or interrogate them. His question was answered as the mumbling from within the room began again.  
  
"Alright man, enough of this. The transport should've been here by now. It's cold in here; I'll go and check the beach. Hand me my pack of cigarettes will you?"  
  
Snake took a leap further down the corridor and rolled to a kneeling position. Still crouching, his back glued itself to the same wall as the door. Any noise in this hallway was amplified, so Snake wouldn't bother about the man heading for the beach since he would have to wait until the guard was outside in order to follow him. A clanking noise was made and a man emerged from the opened door. The light made Snake's eyes water and he stared away from the door. Just as soon the light was gone and the door was shut. The guard fumbled with his flashlight and turned it on in the direction of the exit. He began walking away while Snake crawled to the door a couple of meters ahead. When he reached it he got up and un- holstered his pistol. His eyes were wide open as he watched the bobbing light near its exit – apparently the corridor wasn't as long as Snake had predicted. He quickly moistened his lips and fixed his hand on the handle and the other on his gun. Had he not been wearing gloves, the gun would have slipped out of his sweaty hands. This was where the adrenaline kicked in; the part he enjoyed. He didn't know exactly how the door would react – it might be real heavy or irresponsive. Therefore Snake pushed down the metal handle, took a step back and kicked the door with all his might.  
  
Pt. 9  
  
The door was indeed heavy but it flung open with a bang as Snake aimed his pistol at the startled man by the foldable table. Calmly he told him to raise his hands. The guard was in shock and didn't obey. Snake simply reiterated with a shout. The man quickly raised his hands as far as they would go and started quivering. His lip trembled in fear as Snake used his free hand to close the door whilst his eyes and gun remained pinned on the man.  
  
"What is this place?" Snake asked once the click confirmed the closure. "W-What is what?"  
  
"Don't play dumb. What are you doing here; what are they doing here?" "I-I... I just guard this entrance" the man stammered. "Well, you're not doing a particularly good job" Snake mumbled as he took a look around the room. It was very small; no more than three or four could sit at the tiny unstable table in the center of the room. There were cards dealt out for two players. The walls were lined with slim filing cabinets. "What's in the cabinets?" Snake asked as he made a note of them. "N-Nothing. They use this room for crap they don't need; it's just another storage room that's been transformed." At this point Snake enquired him with his glare. "Uh! What I mean is, now it's used by my partner and me... and-and other guards. We guard the entrance and we hang out here!" "Are you sure you don't know what they're doing here? How do I get to the core of this facility?" Snake asked. "I don't know anything. All I know is that if you go further down the hall you come to a door. I've never been inside, but I-I have keys for you! I'm always called back to the other island when my shift is over. The keys are my partner's; he has clearance. Go talk to him!"  
  
The man's arms were slowly falling by their own weight. Snake told him to stand up at which point the guard began sobbing and hyperventilating. He was told to turn around and face the wall. He did so rigidly. Snake walked up to his trembling body and pistol-whipped him on the back of his neck. He made a displeased groan and fell onto the table, which – light as it was – fell to its side in sympathy.  
  
Snake understood that he had to take out the second guard sooner or later: he would come back to see his companion out of commission and alert his superiors. As such, Snake couldn't just proceed with his infiltration. He also wanted additional information about what the hell was going on. Snake got a shock as he woke up to the realisation that he was over an hour late for his extraction. Why hadn't the Colonel called? But first things first: neutralize any threats and then contact the Colonel and inform him on the change of plans. If there is time, that is.  
  
Snake left the room and began running freely towards the exit with his pistol's flashlight on. Even with the door to the security guard's room open, the hallway had been in almost total darkness: the light from the weak lamp inside the little room had modest authority out in the corridor. The flashlight was essential to keeping a straight course and avoiding stumbling into the walls. As he came ever closer to the exit, a beam of light suddenly emitted from the end of the hallway. The door to the outside was opening. Snake halted in mid air and had already turned his body as his feet touched the floor. Energy exploded from within his legs as he took his first leap back in the direction from whence he came. He quickly shut off his flashlight and sprinted towards the security room and its unconscious inhabitant. The soft soles of his boots made sprinting slightly less audible; yet sneaking was where they excelled at. The door that the arriving guard was opening was quite heavy, giving Snake a few additional seconds to get out of sight. He reached the door, dodging left into the room. Without wasting any time he pushed the door shut. The silence inside was astounding. His chest was heaving as he took quick breaths. The low temperature of the hallway couldn't keep Snake cool. He swallowed firmly and became as intimate with the wall as possible. He stood beside the door, ready. The gun – still equipped – was held with his arms outstretched in both hands, just below his stomach. Snake focused on standing as prepared and steady as possible. Just as he heard the guard's loud and crude footsteps approach the door he flipped the light switch off. The handle was pulled and the door creaked. When the door was opened, the guard refrained from entering and lingered noiselessly for a second or two. It could very well have been half a second or a few minutes; Snake's senses were focused on any slight movement rather than keeping time. Darkness engulfed them both in its entirety. The guard's flashlight must have been turned off before he opened the door and now, as he stood there, he proceeded to cock his pistol. Snake couldn't immediately figure out what to do. The man was suspicious; he'll probably flip the light switch. He knew something was wrong; the room was silent – where had his partner gone?  
  
As predicted, the man tried to flick the light switch. The darkness which blinded them required both men to abstain from relying on their eyesight. However, Snake had the unfair advantage of improved hearing. While the guard needed light to be able to use his most refined sense, Snake could do quite well without the sense of sight. Both of them stood motionlessly. Snake turned his head in the direction of the light switch, for he knew that sooner or later this is what the guard would go for. Snake placed his left hand above it. Any cracking of the bones was concealed within the confinements of the sneaking suit. Inside his mind Snake saw the entire room in a very basic outline and any slight noise would repaint the picture with the new noisy object in place. When the man slid his hand past the frame of the door to reach the switch, Snake could hear it as loudly as a gunshot and see it as clearly as a flash of red. With his left hand Snake grabbed a hold of the man's left wrist, pulled him inside with a violent tug and simultaneously smacked him on the back of his neck with his pistol. The man made a high-pitched whimper as the blow hit him. His knees caved and he fell. At this point Snake flipped the light switch with his elbow. The man was still hanging from Snake's iron grip as he sat on his knees facing him, lolling his head back and forth in unconscious despair. Snake let go of his wrist and kicked him in the chest so that his body quickly met the ground.  
  
Pt. 10  
  
Snake holstered his gun and stepped over the man on the ground. He pushed aside a foldable chair as he walked over to one of the filing cabinets. He opened one at stomach height and pulled out a thin folder. The cabinets were certainly not empty as Snake felt the man he had interrogated had implied. Yet the files were indeed of no use; they revolved around logistics for building material to complete the facility. Snake couldn't puzzle the pieces together to determine just what the structure was being used for.  
  
He put the file back amongst the other folders and closed the cabinet. Memories of the Colonel washed over him like a cold shower; he knelt down and placed his finger to the tiny button plugged into his ear. Pressing it enabled CODEC transfer. Overlooking the two unconscious men he turned a small dial on a device around his waist and immediately heard the Colonel's calm – almost joyous – voice inside his head.  
  
"Snake, why haven't you reached the extraction point yet? Do you need assistance?" The Colonel's predictability was soothing in a homely way. "Colonel, things aren't what they seem. I've discovered that the terrorists have built a new Metal Gear. They've dubbed it Metal Gear RE-N; find out whatever you can about it. I've infiltrated their base – it was on another island. In fact, I believe that the warheads that I disabled as my main objective were phoneys, used to dissuade any prying eyes." Snake awaited the Colonel's reply. He heard nothing but silence. "Colonel, can you hear me?" The mood turned in an instant. With a cool, trembling voice, the Colonel replied. "Snake, leave the facility immediately. Reach the extraction point by any means necessary. By disobeying my orders you have possibly opened a Pandora's Box of international disaster. Snake: leave. Get to the extraction point as soon as possible and do so without being spotted. I assume you managed to do this on the way in so get out just as stealthily. Snake, if there would be one time when you should trust me relentlessly, it is now. Please Snake."  
  
Snake was aghast by the Colonel's unexpected reply. He felt how close he was to unravelling the conundrum and couldn't simply turn a blind eye to whatever was going on. Tentatively he answered. "Colonel..." He spoke very cautiously; he didn't want to provoke the distraught man on the other end of the conversation. "Colonel, I saw Liquid on the other island. I figured he died on Shadow Moses, but apparently he survived Fox Die. I believe that the entire operation I checked out this morning was nothing but a fake, though I don't know for what reason ... I don't believe Liquid knows that I've discovered his true intentions so let me continue onwards with my new objective. Colonel; let me destroy the Metal Gear threat." Expecting an outburst from the Colonel, Snake braced himself. After a silent second the Colonel replied in a sad, calm voice.  
  
"If Liquid knows you're here we will all be dead within a few hours."  
  
What was the Colonel saying?! Snake swirled around in the tiny room as he received this news. "Colonel, what's going on?!" Snake yelled. His head was a tumult of questions. With a suspicious tone he added "What do you know?" "Snake", the Colonel spoke. "Liquid's got us in a corner. We... It's too much to explain right now Snake. I'll explain when you get back." Snake opened his mouth in confusion. "But Colonel, I'm not going back – not until I've disabled the RE-N." Snake expected uproar from his superior and closed his eyes. "Snake! Proceed to extraction or you will be responsible for the death of millions of innocent civilians!" spoke the booming voice inside Snake's head. "Now Snake! Now!" Snake's head vibrated; he had never heard the Colonel this furious. Fighting fire with fire, Snake replied "Colonel, either tell me what's going on or I'm proceeding with my infiltration!" He omitted the phrase 'against your orders if I have to'. Regaining his respect for the man, he added calmly: "Nobody will know I'm here. Please, it's what I do. Let me continue."  
  
Snake leaned against the cabinets and slid down until he sat on the ground. He would break his orders if the Colonel wouldn't let him continue. He couldn't stop now; he wouldn't. He would find the Metal Gear and Liquid, with or without the Colonel's blessings. Yet it was never easy to break orders; especially if they came from an admired man. The Colonel answered with a regained tranquillity.  
  
"Snake, about a month ago we, the AUL (Assembly of United Leaders), got wind of a new Metal Gear in the works. We pieced together information and located a likely facility around the equator. At the time we believed it was the island which you infiltrated this morning, but now it's obvious that the place we were looking for is the island you're on... Devious bastards. All signs pointed to the decoy facility... We sent in an SO (Stealth Operative) to investigate. After several hours without contact we were sent live transmission of our operative in custody. Liquid had him on his knees." The Colonel paused for a second. "Liquid walked nonchalantly around him, spinning a revolver in his hand. He told us precisely that which our informants had revealed earlier: A new Metal Gear was indeed in the works, for which he was responsible. The bastard placed the barrel of the gun to the SO's temple. Then he told us that the Metal Gear was fully functional and that any provocation, such as sending in another SO, would trigger a massive nuclear attack on several of the most populated cities. We were in shock – it would be a catastrophe unparallel to anything we have ever witnessed. Then he pulled the trigger and one of our most acclaimed operatives was gone in a second. Snake, forgive me for not telling you this earlier. Given your past with Metal Gear we omitted you from the list of SO's available for the mission"  
  
One of the men in front of Snake moved slightly. Still on the ground, Snake lifted his leg up and let it hit the man on the back with full force. The Colonel continued.  
  
"Liquid had us in a tough spot. We couldn't just allow him to carry on his misdoings, and in retrospect he probably understood this; maintaining his charade of a MG facility in case we tried to send in another agent. At the time we still believed that the facility our man had infiltrated was the correct one... But we couldn't help but wonder what Liquid was doing with a Metal Gear. If we attacked the base he would unleash terror upon the world. But if we let him be, what would he do then? What was he after; money? But if money was his only goal, why wait? Why tell us to back off? The only logical assumption we could make was that Liquid was bluffing, that his Metal Gear wasn't ready. If it were he would have no reason to keep us on our toes; he would make his demands clear. He was bluffing in order to keep us away for as long as possible until the MG was complete and operational.  
  
"Sending in another operative would be highly risky, yet at the same time we felt reassured that Liquid was bluffing. But in the end we had no choice, bluffing or not. The only SO suitable for the mission would be our best-trained man; you Snake. Any signs of intrusion could lead to world- wide destruction; the infiltration would have to be as good as flawless. You were our only hope." The Colonel took a break from the epic speech and when he resumed his next sentence he did so with grave satisfaction. "No offence Snake, you're an excellent agent, but your rather impulsive behaviour denied us the benefit of revealing the true nature of the mission." His voice became solemn again. "We sent you in under false pretences; we neglected mentioning anything about Metal Gear. If you knew about the development of a new MG you would stop at nothing to destroy it and its makers. Nothing could go wrong, no margin for error: we needed you to follow our every whim, to be as docile as a kitten." At this Snake groaned. He had never been referred to as a kitten before. The Colonel continued. "As such, your head had to be kept cool, in a matter of speaking. Pulling a veil of ignorance over your head was the only way to carry through the mission. Sometimes you avoid seeing the big picture, Snake: At times it is best to let the evil-doers go unharmed to assure world safety. Knowing you, you wouldn't have stopped until Liquid was either captured or dead – even if it meant fighting during a world-wide holocaust.  
  
"We sent you to the island to investigate. The mission was simple enough; it was a clear cut infiltrate-investigate job, similar to countless ones you had done in the past. If there was a Metal Gear in the works you would have discovered it. When you found nothing but the warheads, the entire AUL erupted in cheers as Liquid's bluff became apparent; he might have had the ammunition but he had no way to launch the missiles. So – we thought – he was indeed just stalling for time until he could build a Metal Gear. Disabling the warheads would therefore dissolve the threat. But now it is apparent that we've all been fooled. The warheads were a decoy."  
  
The Colonel paused. "Snake, when did you cross paths with Liquid?" Snake cleared his throat and spoke. "Once I had disarmed the last warhead I saw him glaring over the missiles in the warehouse, but I didn't think he saw me until I was exiting the facility and somebody shot at me. It couldn't have been anybody but him." "Damn" exclaimed the Colonel. "That was several hours ago. Snake, if what you're saying is true and Liquid really does have a Metal Gear in his possession, this MG RE-N, the threat is as impending as ever. But knowing just how proud Liquid is, he wouldn't have launched the attacks on the cities without making it painfully clear that we were responsible for the imminent Armageddon. We haven't been contacted yet so let us hope that he still hasn't launched an attack. If the information you've found is misleading then the RE-N could still be a bluff, which would negate any danger... Yet the charade Liquid has put up seems to hint at the possession of a real Metal Gear. And if the RE-N is operational and Liquid's malign intents hold true, a missile launch countdown could begin at any moment! In both cases, infiltrating the base is all we can do: if Liquid has a Metal Gear he'll use it; intruders won't stop him now. If he doesn't, then infiltration – even if detected – should be relatively safe. We can't waste anymore time. Go now Snake! Find Metal Gear!"  
  
Pt. 11  
  
Right, there's no time to waste, thought Snake. He considered waking up the higher ranked guard to question him about his role in this twisted drama, but he quickly realized that there wasn't enough time, or even if the information would be necessary. Snake tapped the tiny bottle of smelling salts in his pocket through the fabric of his suit. It made a soft, dull noise and with an equally dreary sound Snake sighed and dragged his silenced pistol out of its holster to his side. This situation was always despicable. He raised the pistol arms length in the direction of the guard on the floor. Snake's magnificent arm shook gently as his finger pulled the trigger twice; once for the heart and once for the head. He turned around and ejected the clip from his gun into his hand. There were two bullets left. Usually he always carried sufficient ammunition with him to last the entire mission – three full 12 bullet clips and an added 24 bullets in loose form in a pack around his belt. The second clip was more of a backup, in case the first one was lost or destroyed; what good are bullets if there is no way for them to load into the weapon? Whereas the third clip rested idly in the secondary weapon which Snake now wielded in his hand. The clips and bullets were designed to fit the SOCOM as well as his current weapon. This reminded Snake that he ought to find a stronger, more reliable weapon or at the very least more ammunition for his present one. This mission had turned out to be longer than accounted for and there would almost certainly be a shortage of ammo. He had been relatively efficient during the previous mission and although one clip was discarded along with his personal SOCOM, one full clip as well as 20 bullets – including the two in the clip – remained. He took out ten bullets from the pack on his belt and fed them to the clip. He recognized the pleasing weight of a fully loaded gun as he slid the clip into place.  
  
As Snake cocked the pistol he looked at the guard he had just killed and saw no weapons on him. Was he completely unarmed and helpless? Snake stepped over him to reach a cabinet against the wall. There was no lock preventing access to the contents of the cabinet and so Snake simply lifted the hatch on the two doors and in short stood staring at four gleaming shotguns. His initial contentment quickly subsided as his stealthy nature rose to consciousness; shotguns would be a definitive way to get caught. Snake's eyes darted back and forth, examining everything that lay within the metallic structure. Nothing of use. His orderly mind made sure to close the cabinet's doors properly. Yet the chaos he had caused inside the tiny room in which he stood illustrated his hypocrisy as clearly as if he had admitted it himself. The blood from the dead guard had begun to seep out onto the floor and form a puddle to which Snake's only response involved a larger step over the body to reach the door. Scanning the room one last time to make sure he could leave it as it was, alerted Snake to the second guard behind the fallen table. The man's obstruction from view had caused Snake to forget that he even existed. The guard might wake up soon. After a few seconds of thought Snake walked over to the unconscious man as he simultaneously tossed his pistol into the air and caught it by the silencer. He adjusted his grip on the smooth cylinder and sent the butt of the pistol soaring violently down on the man's neck. He might wake up in a few hours with a concussion but should be thankful Snake had spared his life. A foolish use of time, Snake thought in retrospect, but he felt it was important to reward good intents and punish bad ones. He felt a bit like a kindergarten teacher when he reconsidered this notion. But the surviving guard might remember the difference between himself and his dead companion and spread the word to his co-workers about the deciding factor to respect their parents. Snake smirked at the thought. The world would be a better place if nobody was corrupt enough to sell their own mother – but if everybody adopted this conviction of respect, how then would Snake justify his killings? Oh well, one must set an example, he thought jokingly. Snake shook his head and chuckled at his insight into humour as he walked out the door.  
  
Pt. 12  
  
Snake halted halfway across the threshold of the door as his temples vibrated. The Colonel was calling. Snake placed his left index finger on the button in his right ear as he turned on his pistol's flashlight.  
  
"Snake!" the Colonel boomed. "Colonel", Snake added with an air of wit. "We made a quick search for Metal Gear RE-N but all we found was information about REX; its characteristics and features. Our researchers believe that there's been some sort of mix-up, that the REX was alternatively codenamed RE-N." Snake listened as he walked back inside the room to the dead man on the floor. He had forgotten to search his body for an access card. "We'll keep looking, but it doesn't make sense. All searches for RE-N turn up with REX facts. I'll keep you updated, but for now just make sure Liquid doesn't launch an attack. Don't waste any time Snake!" Snake picked up the access card that he found on the body and placed it temporarily in a pocket on his suit. Then he spoke: "Then, if you don't mind Colonel, spare me the AUL's thoughts and concerns. Contact me only if it's a necessity." The Colonel's startled grunt was followed by a somewhat saddened "Okay Snake" before contact was broken.  
  
Even in such a dark and miserable place, Snake managed to feel relieved now that the Colonel stood beside him in his mission. Earlier this day Snake had felt the overwhelming desire to lay down his entire profession, but now that he had been reunited with his mechanical destiny he felt revitalized. He left the room as it was and walked out the opened door. The light from his flashlight bobbed up and down as he jogged further down the dark hallway. He reached the black door and sunk the access card into the receiver. A tiny green light emitted near the handle as a soft click signified an open door. Snake once again placed the card into a pocket of his, not knowing when he might need it again. He should be moving quickly, but in the deadly silence every noise was echoed and returned as an alien and unknown sound. He walked slowly along the new, wider corridor. Up front, no more than 45 feet ahead, the hallway ended and split to both sides.  
  
Snake froze halfway along the corridor. The faint, dancing lights on the right wall along with the rhythmic sounds from the left side alerted him to impending disaster. He was paralyzed, mainly because of his strained attempt to focus on the elusive signs of an incoming squad. Was he seeing things? When he realized that the marching footsteps were as real as exploding gunfire and the flashlight spots on the wall as ominous as a siren, it was already too late. He turned hastily around and sprinted towards the door. As his footsteps quickened as did the others around the corner: "He's over here!" yelled a voice. Snake had switched off his flashlight and was running blindly in the direction of the darkest black. A few seconds was all that had passed between his first sense of danger and now, when he had his hand raised to grab the handle. The door in front of him lit up. It was as bright as the sand on the beach outside, with Snake's silhouette a solid cut-out from an otherwise impenetrable flow of light. The three men behind him kept their flashlights steady and yelled their predictable cries.  
  
"Don't move!" yelled the first one with an overly dramatized military tone. "Put you weapon on the ground and you hands on your head." Snake hesitated for a second. Think, think!  
  
"Now!" Snake had no choice but to put his pistol on the ground. He looked at it with tilted eyebrows, as if he was saying goodbye to an old friend. "Hands on your head!" came the voice from behind him. "Do it!" Snake looked up from the ground and placed his hands slowly on his head. His eyes dashed as his mind went through all possible scenarios and likely outcomes. He turned around and faced the three spots of light at the end of the corridor. He could see no part of the dark walls; his entire perception was suspended in a pool of luminance. One of the men came jogging up to him; cautiously keeping his flashlight on his face. For a brief moment the light disappeared and was quickly followed by a strike to his stomach. As Snake fell to his knees, gasping for breath, another man came running up to him. "Come on", he said, grabbing Snake by the right shoulder. The guard that had punched Snake in the stomach switched off his flashlight and swung his rifle to his back to assist in the lifting. The third guard stood firmly where the three had first spotted Snake, shining his light on the three men. One of the guards raised his arm to cover the light and spoke. "Hey man, could you stop blinding us with the light?" led to a stubborn lowering of the rifle. To reassert his leadership the man told them to hurry up; "Let's go!"  
  
"Wait", Snake uttered. Thanks to the hardened material which protected Snake's inner organs, the punch in the stomach had hurt, but not nearly as much as he was letting on. "Wait, we can't go" he blurted out. By their uneasy weight shifting Snake knew he had the three guards in his proverbial hand. "I've planted explosives around the entire facility. They'll explode in a short while unless you let me defuse them. I don't want to die, please, let me defuse them! After that you may do with me whatever you want."  
  
The three men stood close by, surrounding him. The hallway was dark now that the only light source came from the single rifle which was incidentally tilted downward. Snake looked up at the men's faces but couldn't see a thing due to the temporary blindness caused by the previous influx of light. Yet the silence revealed some uncertainty within the group which Snake had to nurture. Hanging by the shoulders as if critically wounded, Snake spoke. "Do you really want to be responsible for the death of all your co-workers; for your boss?!" The fake anxiety in his voice had become real, but not because of a bomb that needed defusing; if they didn't believe him he was as good as dead.  
  
"Alright, get up; up onto your feet" said an assertive voice. Snake's bent knees quickly found the ground as he stood up, squinting exaggeratedly. He wanted to portray a weak and cowardly man; a stark contrast to the one Liquid had surely warned them about. This would ease the tension making a revolt more likely to succeed. The three men stood around him with their hands on his shoulders and threatening fists by their sides.  
  
The most talkative man asked Snake where the explosives were. "They're all over the base, but the incinerator is just down the hallway, inside the room to the right" he answered. "Alright. Take us there." Snake placed his hands on his head and looked down at his gun as he marched back through the door he had passed not minutes ago. I'll be back for you, he thought, raising his head.  
  
Pt. 13  
  
Snake's footsteps were echoed by six more just behind him. His hands were still on his head. He was stalling for time by walking slowly; he hadn't yet arrived at an obvious way out of this entrapment of his. It seemed as if things would inevitably get messy – a situation as unique as this one didn't exist in the training scenarios. Or rather, it did, but it involved cooperation with the enemy while awaiting a more manageable situation. Snake didn't have that kind of luxury. Luck and timing would have to be on his side. Fortunately for Snake, the guards behind him didn't mind the slow progression as it allowed them to concentrate fully on keeping their eyes and sights on Snake, rather than watching were they were treading. They were frightened of him. Snake's fingers became cold as the adrenaline flowed through his hands. The muscles in his body cooled him and spoke: they wanted to move – they were eager to do their part in Snake's survival. His arms twitched with excitement as each step along the corridor meant that his options for a revolt flowed mercifully into a definitive puddle without alternatives. Snake's torso twisted at the waist as he turned to measure the distance between himself and the three guards. The hallway was narrow and the three men were forced to walk behind one another. Before their leader could snap at him to turn back around, Snake had already concluded that they were too far away to allow for any immediate action – they kept their distance. Snake obligingly turned forward and continued along the dark path sporadically illuminated by the three flashlights behind him. The adrenaline rushing inside him made his neck and head twitch. He gulped as much as his dry mouth would allow. Snake concluded that he needed to get ahead of his captors and consequently increased the speed of his gait. The men behind him did the same without protest. His hands still on his head, Snake broke a dangerous barrier the moment his feet soared simultaneously in the air: he was jogging.  
  
"Stop!" he heard behind his back. "Stop running!"  
  
Snake was nearing the door. His mind worked logically around the problems he was facing; he had to be permitted to run. He was so close that the solution needn't be fancy.  
  
"The bomb!" Snake exclaimed. "It's going to explode!"  
  
The confusion that arose from this announcement would spare him the seconds he needed. Before they could realize the nonsensicality of his claims they would be dead.  
  
As Snake dodged into the dimly lit room to his right his hands left their warm embrace on his head and pushed the door shut. He made sure to leave a spring which a grown man could squeeze through. This is what he hoped would happen. Snake stood in the corner behind the metallic door. The moment Snake destroyed the functioning paradigm of captive vs. capturers the guards had lost all sense of order. Just like a locksmith picks a lock, Snake had picked the guards free from their obligations. The individualistic chase was on and the first contender quickly attempted to slide through the spring of the door. The insecurity of active explosives that Snake had bred in their minds made them wary not to take any unnecessary risks, such as opening the door by force. As the seconds ticked by, sliding through the spring in full speed was quicker than halting to take standard safety precautions. However, the guard's intentions were thwarted as Snake kicked the door as hard as he could the moment the man's body appeared halfway inside the room. His rifle leapt slightly into the air in agreement with a yelp as he was squished between the door and its frame. Snake grabbed the rifle which was strapped around the guard's neck with his right hand and the man's collar with his left. Snake pulled the guard inside and downwards as his knee moved up in a jolt to strike him in his stomach. He threw the bent-over body onto the door so that it shut with a thud. His bandana fluttered as he head-butted the guard's right temple to knock him out cold. Snake switched positions with the man so that he himself leant pushing against the door. Snake had noticed the pistols that the guards had around their waists and using his left hand began to fiddle to get the holster strap loosened. Snake damned his clumsy fingers as they worked the strap as quickly as possible. When the door moved and thrust due to the kicks it was receiving, Snake would retaliate simply by leaning and pressing against it more robustly than before. Yet to do this while holding an unconscious grown man was no easy feat. The door bounced against Snake numerous times in succession before he finally unsheathed the pistol. Swiftly and rapidly he pulled it out with his left hand and pushed the body of its wearer further forward into the room and onto the floor. Snake stepped away from the door and in mid-turn switched the pistol to his right hand and cocked it – his left hand landed comfortably in the supportive position under his right. Despite all the action and adrenaline, Snake stood perfectly still, like a statue, safely distant from – and facing – the door. The breeze that arose as the door flew open invited Snake's hair and bandana to dance. Even before the guard had managed to lower his leg and raise his head, Snake had fired a bullet in his face. The man behind him was as if frozen in a primed stance until he too had a bullet lodged in the head. The impact had made the first guard lose his balance as he flew mercilessly backwards. The second guard flattened against the wall before falling to his side. Both guards were dead before the first casing trickled to the floor.  
  
Snake kept his gun aimed at the bodies for a bit longer until the blood had rushed back to his head. He swallowed and lowered his weapon before a shiver finally ran down his spine.  
  
Pt. 14  
  
Snake was getting tired of this place, of this room. He was loosing his patience, which he felt was a timewaster anyway. He much preferred thinking on his feet. As the Colonel used to tell him – patience is only a virtue as long as you have the time to nurture and maintain it. The moment that last grain of sand drops to the bottom half of the hourglass, the Stealth Operative's best friends swiftly become his instinct and intuition. When the moment comes, these two take control of your body as if by magic; you can do nothing but follow their advice and waltz majestically in their arms – to triumph, or in unlucky circumstances, demise. A game of chance: like Russian roulette. Snake felt that last grain tickle his tongue. Or at least he hoped he did.  
  
The bodies in the hallway were carried inside the small room, yet the blood on the walls immediately told the story of what had happened to anybody willing to listen. The dead guards were a definitive account of what had happened and were necessarily removed, but the blood kept its secret and merely whispered its tale to the light. Without illumination the blood would go unnoticed as dark stains on the dark walls – it was ideally camouflaged. But the true predator sees through concealment. Snake wondered who would be walking down this hallway, inspecting his work, analysing his moves; preparing for a final fight. Somebody a bit more capable rather than a random guard, he suspected. He had grown a hunch for these situations over the years and sensed it.  
  
As Snake piled the two newly-dead guards on top of the older, decaying one, he peaked at the aging unconscious man in the corner. Eying the back of the guard's head, Snake contemplated neutralizing him. A silent bullet to the head: clean; smart. Yet having spared his life thus far only to kill him off as he lay harmless in a corner appeared to Snake as unnecessarily cruel. Almost as if he would be betraying him. "He ought to be out cold for another few hours," thought Snake, "giving me plenty of time to save the world". He smiled an inappropriate smile. Then he turned to the second unconscious man in the closest corner.  
  
The man whom Snake had attacked first out of the three armed guards lay sleeping – or so it appeared when his chest heaved and his nostrils flared. Liquid would attempt to contact these men soon enough; Snake wouldn't have completed his mission prior to Liquid getting wind of how he had escaped his captors. Snake was steadily progressing into his most feared condition where he'd finish the job at any expense –professional in execution or not. Yet he still needed a degree of stealthy-ness and an unsuspecting opponent to work successfully. In essence; Liquid must be kept naïve and unsuspecting for as long as possible. The three guards that had had the unfortunate run-in with Snake held the unintended potential to unveil his plan and objective. In order to remedy this bothersome predicament Snake placed his fingers inside a small pocket on his chest. They re-emerged with the tiny bottle of smelling salts. Snake picked up one of the dead guard's pistols as he unscrewed the top of the beaker. He placed the top back into his pocket and unclipped the walkie-talkie from the unconscious man's belt, then threw it in his lap. Snake got up from his knees but remained hunched over the man as he held the tiny bottle just under his nose. The fumes swooped into the air. With his right hand Snake tilted the barrel of the gun to the man's forehead. The guard woke up with a jolt and a shake, confusion in his eyes, before pain engulfed him and he fell into a slump of moaning and rubbing. One could tell that he had been knocked unconscious rather than fallen into a deliberate sleep by his cautious yet clumsy movements. He was behaving unhealthily dazed. Snake was now standing straight with his gun steady in his hand. It was bigger and heavier than his secondary firearm – which he shouldn't forget to collect, remembered Snake. He nodded at the radio in the man's lap and told him to call his boss. "Tell him you haven't found anybody." The guard clambered up against the wall so that he sat leaning against it. His facial expression showed signs of hesitation.  
  
"Whatever he'll threaten to do to you for turning up empty handed can't possibly be worse than what I'll do if you don't call him." Snake said sadistically, addressing the man's doubts.  
  
The guard knew that there was nothing he could do, which seemed to pain him immensely. Or perhaps it was the sight of numerous dead companions in a crude, vile smelling pile that had sparked the anxiety. He squirmed and whimpered softly as he pushed himself infinitely closer to the wall which he leaned against.  
  
"I'll do worse than kill you unless you call him up right now," Snake said, trying to regain the guard's attention. The man calmed down and sat still. "O-okay, okay. Just take it easy," he replied softly while pressing the numbers on the device. His teary eyes darted back and forth between Snake and the radio. As he did so Snake told him – in the most fatherly tone he could accomplish – to report to Liquid that they had "found nobody near the entrance but would continue their search." He had to abbreviate his speech when the radio crackled.  
  
"Yes, what is it?" Liquid's cocky British voice resounded from within the speaker. Snake's eyes focused on the radio and his ears on the sound, mesmerized, as one would be when confronted with ghosts from the past. When the guard didn't respond to Liquid's question Snake's eyes awoke from their hypnotisation and flew menacingly back to him until he blurted out his predetermined sentence. "I-I, I mean we, we haven't found anybody sir. Nobody's near the entrance. But we'll continue looking sir." "What are you talking about? You radioed me not five minutes ago and told me that you'd caught him"  
  
Snake's eyelids hugged their masters, trembling angrily in unison; there was nothing worse than a plan bursting like an unprotected bubble. His pupils appeared to grow with the rage that embraced him. His eyebrows joined threateningly between his eyes and his nose wrinkled – the guard had lied.  
  
"Wait a minute," Liquid's voice emerged once more and startled Snake. "What's going on here?! Speak!"  
  
The guard fumbled with the radio and mumbled nothing but a pathetic series of I's and Sir's. Liquid spoke again. His voice overshadowed the soft and insignificant guard's which proceeded to dissipate into the background until Snake's perception basked solely in the vibrations emitting from the radio...  
  
"...Snake..."  
  
The sound of it made Snake shiver; it resembled much of what he imagined the words of a serpent would sound like. The final grain of sand fell thunderously to the floor. Snake's lips curled with the lingering anger reminding him of the situation. He concentrated on the treacherous guard that had ruined everything. 'You lied' his eyes seemed to say to the man on the floor. His arm warped into a bow, his gun an arrow. The guard released his finger from the button on the radio and stared at Snake as if he were the devil. His eyes and his mouth opened wide in disbelief as the radio dangled from his hand. The radio dropped when all of a sudden his lips closed and reopened as he shouted, shaking his hands in mercy: "No, no, no, no, no!" The hammer of the pistol fell twice in quick succession. The man shook violently like a marionette puppet reacting to the pulls of the trigger. The sound of the bullets striking his chest conjoined with the noise from the pistol, creating a monstrous duet that echoed inside Snake's head. One bullet entered the man's heart and the other one crept into his right lung. The guard lay gasping for breath a short second or two until he slid down from his upright position to his final resting place on the floor. Snake wasted no time and shot the radio, portraying a message to Liquid: I'm coming for you. With fire in his step Snake turned around and walked out the door and down the hallway to his gun. 


End file.
